Bouquet
by kawaiisuzu
Summary: Moments after graduation, Chihiro Ogino feels almost lied to about the flowers: "I despise farewell bouquets." But somehow, these petals shine like scales. -Response to pinkconchshell's bouquet challenge
1. One

Suzu: First of all, I'd like to disclaim the characters found in this work as well as the prompt. Thanks to Hayao Miyazaki-sensei for his amazing attention to detail and culture in 'Spirited Away'.

This is for pinkconchshell, and her lovely bouquet challenge.

This story is told in a three-shot, but can be lumped together in a one-shot. There is a glossary for the cultural terms at the end of the story, and not each chapter (sorry! But the story is not so very long, and meant to be read in one go).

Some of the italicized words that are cultural (not stress tones) will be explained! I thought it was only fair to preserve the Japanese culture, since Miyazaki's film does that so well.

P.S. I've always loved ikebana.

Alternate Summary: As a normal girl earning her living in a normal job, it was expected that he bring her flowers. But as the petals blew away, they gleamed like dragon scales. "response to Pinkconchshell's bouquet challenge"

'thoughts'.

"speech."

* * *

Bouquet

I.

* * *

_She was floating, gliding in the sky. Time seemed to hang still._

_A name whispered. Secrets tumbling out into the wind. _

_And the flower petals blew away like white, iridescent scales, rushing close and tickling her nose before sweeping past her chestnut brown locks._

She closed her eyes, and then opened them again to wake in her 2DK in downtown Tokyo.

…..

Chihiro had applied for the job out of an urge to create, a whim to design something grand, imposing, and beautifully complex. The idea was to become a famous architect, one who melded past and present in an art that created purely Japanese buildings.

The frequent nighttime dreams of an imposing traditional bathhouse and little dancing Shinto spirits certainly played into that. They'd started when she was ten, when all children started to have dreams for the future. That was normal, thank you very much.

Her peers sometimes looked at her and sniffed ("there _Chi-chan_ goes, with her obsession with ancient history"), but Chihiro stuck to her guns. That's why she had applied to an acclaimed architectural college in Chiyoda, close to the former Imperial Palace.

That was _not_ why she ended up doing knick-knack interior design for a small firm in _Shinjuku_ district, Tokyo.

One thing had led to another, and with the economy being what it was (and her parents being who they were: _persistent_), Chihiro Ogino had settled for a job in the heart of a veritable concrete jungle.

At twenty-two, she'd been lucky to get a job in the weeks before college graduation.

A friend (okay, an ex-boyfriend. Chihiro still cringed every single time her mother hinted they get back together) had recommended her.

After a botched interview that _still_ led to her being hired, Chihiro had to wonder if a few strings were being pulled behind her back.

And that did _not_ make her happy.

When she'd tried to come home during vacation, her mother had wheedled her daughter out of it over the phone. "Tokyo's so advanced architecturally. Chihiro, darling, I don't see why you'd be unhappy with this chance."

"Hnh. Your mother's right. Just try it out for a while, Chihiro. Money doesn't fall from trees, you know."

That was the worst part. There was no logical reason to be _unhappy_ as an interior designer making close to 300,000 yen a year. It was simply that designing different hardwood floors and arranging imported furniture for wealthy couples who didn't reside in Japan half the time seemed… not like the future she'd planned? Maybe she would prefer to design for the small suburban district where her parents had moved to when she was ten. A smaller community. Greener. More spacious plains.

Ri-ight.

Try hillbilly-ville.

Her college mates would all quickly be leaving the hallowed halls of the university and settling largely in Tokyo or the Kanto area. Everyone was done with classes, and only waiting for the actual ceremony to be done and over with so they could _party hard_ and move on with life. Which twenty-something year old in her right mind would choose to be tucked away at the peak of her career and social privileges?

"_Ms._ _Ogino_."

'Huh?' Chihiro nodded absently before nearly dropping the phone receiver.

"About the décor for our loft."

"_Ah._ Um, yes Ma'am. You said you wanted contemporary?" She had no clue what Mrs. Saiko wanted. Her notepad was covered in little doodles of animals wearing _noh_ masks. Contemporary was just the most popular theme requested by clients.

Mrs. Saiko actually tutted over the phone. It made Chihiro want to let the phone drop _oh so casually_ back onto the desk. But she knew better.

"I said that you could try to be creative, dear. You're young, still in college." Mrs. Saiko sniffed, ignoring Chihiro's weak protest that she was graduating in '_mere days—all the preparation is done!'_.

"Ms. Ogino, I would like you to bestow a little faith in me of the skill of young Japanese interior designers. Otherwise, we would switch to our Swiss contractors. You understand."

"I do, Ma'am."

"So then, what did you have in mind?"

Chihiro wracked her brains. Her brown eyes darted to the tiny advertisement in the office's mail for a weekend trip to the magnolia gardens, newly opened in the suburbs.

"Flowers?" she blurted. "How about ikebana?"

The older woman seemed to frown again over the phone. "Are you asking me a question, Ms. Ogino? I did say I would leave it up to your… well, judgment. Now I really must be going. Good day, m'dear."

The phone clicked. Chihiro stared at the receiver in her hand, slightly shocked. She blinked at it a few more times before harshly clacking it back onto the phone stand.

An intern who had wandered by the Ogino cubicle ("the one belonging to the cranky girl. Yes, the one who always looks like she's got her head in the clouds") cringed at the loud sound.

Chihiro looked at the mousy intern's saucer-like eyes, and she felt an instant surge of shame and fatigue. Chihiro covered it up with a wry grin at the intern.

"Hey. I love my job," she mustered in her best cheery voice.


	2. Two

Bouquet

II.

* * *

_Jade-green eyes. They would always flash at her before her dream snaked away like a long white plume of cloud in the sky. _

_And when she would try to catch the ribbon, it would vanish as if made of smoke._

…...

"I'm from Tohru Interior Design. Can I speak to your manager?"

The thick-waisted man behind the desk looked bored. He sized up the largish gray suit Chihiro was wearing. It was her mom's, since Chihiro's only beige suit from college graduation was linty and tucked in the back of her closet.

His bulbous eyes blinked once, twice, and Chihiro had the feeling that she'd seen him somewhere before. The man licked his sizeable lips before declaring:

"She's not in."

Chihiro felt like a little girl again. She was certainly being talked to like one.

"Could I see some of your samples, then?"

His finely plucked, almost invisible eyebrows shot up. The bulbous eyes rolled in their sockets, reminding Chihiro of a frog. "Suit yourself," he quipped.

The desk attendant jabbed a finger at the door to the left. The studio smelled a bit like incense, although the windows were not shut tight. The rooms of the establishment seemed laid out like an old Japanese house, with tatami mats and fine traditional water paintings framed on the walls.

"We had some of our work delivered back to this area earlier in the week," the attendant said without turning to look at her. "It comes straight from the _ryokan_, so don't complain if you don't like it."

"I'm sure I won't." Chihiro's pasted smile threatened to fall off. She quickly walked into the room indicated.

Inside were rows of _ikebana _crafted by members of affiliated ryokan as well as students at the institution. There were large pots of arranged flowers, some with tender green stems, some budding shyly on crisp twigs that seemed to curve up sensuously despite their rough texture. The pots themselves were made of gorgeous stained glass and woven baskets, but the flowers were arranged in bursts of color. The rhythm and pattern of the shapes combined in such a way that could only be described as a visual symphony.

Chihiro tested the weight of one pregnant bloom with the tip of her finger. The large white magnolia was the center of the ikebana arrangement.

"It's beautiful," she breathed.

A sliding shoji door at the opposite end of the room indicated a new staff member had arrived. Chihiro turned around, half expecting the toady deskman or perhaps the missing manager. Instead, she met the eyes of a tall, slim male who looked to be in his twenties.

He was dressed in a crisp white blouse that looked a tad over-starched at the collar. She could tell he was a worker by the small black half-apron that rested over his chino pant legs. And such long legs, too! Chihiro couldn't help thinking.

There was a weary, messy fall to his smooth green-ebony locks of hair. His otherwise handsome face looked tired as well, as if he was fatigued from a search too long and too cumbersome to keep up much longer.

He looked ethereal, and his overall presence was almost imperceptible. Like smoke.

Chihiro's heart skipped a beat at the same moment that it went out to the man. Working at this studio must be hard. She wondered if he was a graduate student.

'_The girls in the ikebana class must really appreciate beauty,'_ Chihiro thought with a bit of a pinched look as she tried not to stare. Other than being incredible eye-candy, he made gestures and movements that were rendered with natural grace, as if he would pour himself like water to the ikebana flowers.

"These arrangements are gorgeous," Chihiro remarked in what she hoped was a casual manner.

He smiled politely, and his face became even more radiantly handsome as the movement brushed his bangs from his green eyes.

Those eyes, however, had Chihiro transfixed. She stared, her own eyes wide, at the sudden, contained joy and recognition that emanated from those eyes. He seemed to struggle to not show those emotions to her, as evidenced by his shy, careful smile.

"Do you like ikebana?" he questioned her.

"Well, I've always admired the art form, I suppose," Chihiro said truthfully. Even his voice was pretty. "But I like fresh flower bouquets the most. And these flowers look so… alive! Even without being watered, the petals feel moist!"

"Thank you," he smiled again, and his face glowed with happiness. "I handle most of the preparation of the fresh flowers that are cut."

"You do a great job," Chihiro mused. "Mrs. Saiko is sure to have no complaints, for once." When the man looked confused, Chihiro explained hurriedly: "Ah. She's my client. I work for an interior design office. "

"I only wish I was as good at it as you are at what you do," she added shyly.

He looked at her meaningfully, as if testing the weight of her words like she had tested the weight of the magnolia blossom earlier.

"Ikebana had its origins from Buddhist monks at a mountainous temple. I was and still am deeply fascinated by their art, so it was not too hard to learn. The founder was a human passionate about his work, and true to his heart. "

There was genuine reverence in his tone, almost too polite for a youngster living in the heart of 21st century Tokyo.

"That's what we must all aspire to be, is it not?"

Chihiro marveled. 'He sounds almost like he was there all those years ago!' She realized with a start that the way this man spoke was extremely polite and formal. 'Must be all those ikebana classes and this stately environment. Or perhaps he's the son of a wealthy traditional family.' Chihiro eyed his gracefully molded features: deep set eyes, generous lips, and sharp chin. He certainly looked aristocratic enough.

'Breathe, Chihiro, breathe!' she mentally berated herself. 'He's probably not much older than you! Be calm, be casual!'

"I'm Chihiro, by the way."

Woah. His smile was ah-may-zing.

"Haku. It is very nice to meet you, Ogino-san."

"Just Chihiro is fine." She blushed, then sucked in her breath harshly in a vain effort to quell her pounding instincts. 'Way too fast, there, girl.'

But it was undeniable. She felt like he, if anyone, could call her by her given name. And though part of Chihiro longed to hear her name called out by him as in an intimate caress, she felt glad for the slight scrap of normality when Haku politely compromised.

"Chihiro-san, then. Come, let us pick out the arrangements you need for your client."

She followed him to through the establishment, stopping now and then to look over an ikebana piece.

Chihiro's mind whirred with his words from earlier. 'Passion for work and being true to your heart. He's either a total romantic or not completely straight.'

For the first time in months, she felt peaceful, and it was with a stranger by her side. However, that last thought pertaining to his interest in girls struck a sour chord in Chihiro's chest.

That, and Chihiro couldn't fathom how Haku'd known her last name.


	3. Three

Bouquet

III.

* * *

_A train that seemed to go on forever, crossing a vast cerulean ocean. She didn't know anyone on board—they were mere shadows in her dream._

_Just step on, the wind seemed to whisper to her._

_You need to, to get to the next stop in your journey._

…...

The day of her graduation was possibly the most hectic one of her life. Chihiro jumped from apartment, school, work, apartment, station without so much as pausing for a breath.

All the dullness of that day seemed to drip down her person like sludge as Chihiro peeled away layers and layers of dead weight from her school, her work, her life.

Haku was like medicine to her. She still remembered the way he'd held her hand, for just a brief moment, as they'd paused over the white lilies to bring to Mrs. Saiko's finished apartment.

He stood on the metro platform now, holding a simple bouquet of white peonies. Chihiro swallowed heavily. The peonies arranged were _botan_—a difficult arrangement piece that wasn't taught to just any ikebana novices.

His darkish bangs brushed softly against his unblemished brow and striking green eyes. He was still wearing the simple button up chemise and pants that were part of his uniform, but the silly little half apron was gone. Several women at the station turned there heads to stare. If he noticed, he didn't react to the attention. Haku had a vaguely wistful look about him, and Chihiro caught her breath and looked away before she could see the pain in his gaze.

"I don't like farewell bouquets," Chihiro said, swallowing the lump in her throat.

His eyes seemed to search her face gently.

"It's not a farewell bouquet," he corrected.

"This simple offering is to congratulate you for graduating today, Chihiro-san."

She wanted to hear her name from his lips again. Perhaps without the honorific. It made her feel old and tucked away before her time. But then again, Chihiro thought wryly, that's exactly what she was doing with herself—stowing away to the countryside to work on renovating several Shinto shrines and old temples.

The job offer had come in through a friend of her mother's who was on a small town board committee overseeing some renovations to nearby temples and cultural buildings.

While calling home the night before the graduation ceremony, Chihiro had jumped on the opportunity.

"You and Dad aren't coming to see me give my speech, so consider letting me do this a graduation present."

"But Chihiro, darling! What about your job?"

"I'm finishing it properly. Mrs. Saiko's order will be done tomorrow morning after I sign all the papers tonight, and I'll quit officially via phone tomorrow. "

"And Kai-kun, your boyfriend? He got you that job, you know."

Chihiro winced at her mother's insistent tone. "Kai and I were done months ago, Mom." She had thought of green eyes, of a soft smile and a deep, mind-numbing gaze that still sent delicious shivers through her body. "Yes. Definitely, definitely over."

Staring straight at the twin pools of lucid green eyes now, Chihiro felt her knees knocking together slightly. The station surroundings blurred for a second, as she felt her world focus on who was directly in front of her. She clutched her duffel tighter, diploma stuffed inside hastily a few hours earlier.

"Thank you for helping me with my luggage, Haku," Chihiro said.

"It is no trouble. It was convenient for both of us since I had to deliver the ikebana flowers to your office," he said, tone carefully polite.

Chihiro scowled and blushed at the same time. "I'm sorry you had to see that. My boss wasn't too happy with me moving my stuff out of the office today. Neither was Kai."

"Have you finished with him?"

Chihiro didn't know if he was talking about her boss or Kai, her ex. "Yes," she said resolutely. "You told me that the best policy was always to chase after your heart, or your dreams." She paused as if testing the words herself. They weren't so bad, really… not all that corny when you meant them.

"That's what I'm doing, Haku," Chihiro finished, trying to sweep her arms in a flourish that failed due to her heavy duffel.

"You're moving," he intoned.

"Yeah. To hillbilly-ville."

Haku seemed puzzled by her word choice. "I enjoy the scenic views in the countryside far more than the skyline in Tokyo," he said carefully.

Chihiro perked up as a wild thought came to her. "Why don't you move there too? We can go together…" her voice died out as she realized how fantastical that train of thought was.

Haku was silent, as if contemplating. Probably wondering if she was sane, Chihiro thought with a hot flush rising to her cheeks. After all, they'd just met… right?

"I-I'm going, then," she said meekly.

Haku stood absolutely still, but his eyes seemed to focus and become a startling emerald hue under the light. So vivid that Chihiro thought she'd seen them somewhere before… like in a dream. Or…

Resolutely, she turned away from him, towards the tracks.

A sudden sharp gust of wind blew through the subway station.

'But that's impossible.'

Chihiro blinked. The train had not yet come close enough.

'We're underground.'

It suddenly smelled of rain, and Chihiro thought she caught hints of grass and dirt, as if the metro station had been transformed into a riverside bank.

She saw an entering train snake in, and it seemed to flow as if water, smoothly carrying its passengers past the tide.

Chihiro's ears tingled. Her pupils dilated.

The bouquet of white flowers Chihiro was holding practically leapt at her face.

And the pearly petals shook free of their spindly stems before dancing in the cool breeze.

White.

And in the reflecting metal of the train whizzing past them, the white petals looked silvery and hard.

They look like dragon scales, Chihiro thought giddily as a wave of déjà-vu hit her.

Her knees shook, and she sank to the rough ground of the station.

Still staring at the reflection on the surface of the rushing bullet train, Chihiro saw the petals blow away and disappear, leaving only the raven-haired man standing on the tracks, appearing in the reflection unobstructed as soon as the flower petals had fled in the flurry.

_Transformation. _

The train passed.

Chihiro started, shocked as she turned back around and stared at Haku in a new light.

"Have I met you before, not in Tokyo…?" she gasped, still clutching at her duffel and (the remains of) her flowers.

Haku's warm tenor resounded in her ears, and Chihiro thought of the tolling bell of a clock tower. A beautiful red clock tower, amid grassy fields. Something she could very nearly draw out in her mind's eye, and perhaps soon design where she was going.

"I told you it was not a farewell bouquet," this truth fell from his lips like drops of rain to a parched earth. A weight had fallen from his shoulders.

"In truth, I will see you again very soon… I keep my promises, Chihiro."

The subway line's whistle blew. It sounded like a distant locomotive, coming closer on the underwater tracks. Rippling over calm waters like a serpent, like a—

She breathed in the wonderful scent of rain, or the sky and other the faint scent of flowers that surrounded Haku after work. The pleasant tingle spread all the way down to her toes, blossomed out at her fingertips, and fanned its way upwards until her cheeks glowed in surprised pleasure.

Haku smiled, more contentedly than she'd ever seen him smile. Like he'd found what he'd been looking for, finally. "After all, _kami_ do not lie."

Chihiro almost laughed then.

Stepped forward to meet him.

Almost as an afterthought, Kohaku added in a soft murmur only Chihiro could hear.

"Perhaps I will bring roses next time."

* * *

… _Owari/End_

_

* * *

_

Suzu: thanks so much for reading! Rather than poring over certain dolce details of Haku and Chihiro rediscovering each other, I thought I'd go for a subtle, simple sweet reunion in this piece.

Okay, with a magical fun gust of wind at the end.

And I tried to really weave the imagery of the bouquet along with how Haku's scales dissolved like millions of little petals in the movie. That is my favorite scene. The reflection in the passing train showed the petals

And the theme—Japanese flower arrangement/bouquet work—definitely fit in my mind. I assume Haku would be excellent at it, since he controls water and air, just what flowers need to retain their fresh appearance, haha. We can assume he was looking for her after she left, and decided to fit in the best he could at a job that was still part of Chihiro's world.

I'll leave it to you to ponder all the other small clues and hints, yo.

A lot of the imagery used was supposed to mirror parts of the movie. ;)

**Mini glossary: **

Chi-chan: 'chan' is a suffix (see honorifics) added on to be cute, friendly… so you would use it to address a friend. Also, the shortening of Chihiro's name serves that purpose doubly. Her friends, then, are definitely modern Japanese girls.

Chiyoda: a district in central Tokyo which houses the traditional Imperial Palace. There are many scenic spots and temples.

Shinjuku: a very stylish part of Tokyo, with large hotels and a red-light district.

Noh: Remember No-Face? The mask on his face was a Noh mask, which is used for a certain kind of traditional Japanese theater. Also, spirits are often depicted wearing noh-like masks that represent their animal affinity.

Ryokan: traditional Japanese hotels/fancy dining places/fancy entertainment complexes.

Ikebana: traditional Japanese flower arrangement.

Botan: tree peonies. The blossom petals do kinda resemble scales.

_Honorifics_: usually, if you call someone without an honorific in Japan, you're either a close friend or family member. Otherwise, it would be considered brazen and rude. A polite honorific that take on the idea of 'ms.' or 'mr.' in English is '-san'. The politest form would be to tack on '-san' to one's last name.

Kami: gods, or more correctly in this context, spirits. (Ko)Haku is a river spirit, a river kami. In the last line, you notice that I refer to him as Kohaku. This is meant to signify Chihiro's awareness of who he truly is at the end.


End file.
